The last reality
by hat-and-goggles
Summary: The last reality Honerva visited in her search for a happy life has a history. A sad history, but also a history of healing and happiness.


Today was a happy day.

It had been ten phoebs, give or take a few quintents, since his wife, the Empress, broke the good news. She was pregnant, and they would be having a son. Emperor Zarkon couldn't have been more proud.

He looked when he heard the opening of the door to the waiting room, which filled with the unmistakable cries of a newborn child. The emperor's chest swelled with excitement as walked up to the doctor.

"Sire, I,"

"He is… A little small, isn't he?" He asked, peering down at the baby who was starting to calm down, still writhing and fussing in the doctor's hold.

"Uh, right. Actually, this size and weight are perfectly healthy for an Altean infant."

The Emperor nodded.

"He does take after his mother." Zarkon spoke, extending a finger to the child, who firmly gripped it, looking up at his father with his big, yellow-blue eyes.

"Sire, I don't know how to tell you this…"

"Then say it as it is."

"The Empress…"

"Is there anything I can do for her?"

"I'm afraid not, Sire. She didn't make it."

Today was a happy day, but a sad one as well.

"What do I do, Alfor?" Zarkon sighed, face buried in his hands as a look of desperation came over his features. He sat on the side of his bed, his and Honerva's bed, the little prince's crib stood not far away. It must be blissful, Zarkon thought, to not have to understand any of the goings on around him. "I don't know the first thing about raising a child, let alone an Altean child! I always thought Honerva and I would be able to figure this out together, but I'm not sure I can."

"Zarkon, please calm yourself." Alfor argued over their holographic communication devices. "I promise you, there are more difficult things in this universe than raising a child, and we've already done most of them together."

"It's not that. I'm sure I could find a good governess here on Daibazaal, but…"

"If it's the Altean part you're worried about, Melenor and I can come over to give you a bit of a crash course. I'm sure Coran and Allura will be able to hold down the fort while we're away."

Five deca-phoebs. It had been Fivedeca-phoebs since Zarkon had last held his wife Honerva, kissed her, cradled her, whispered small words of encouragement in her ear. Never had it occurred to him to say "goodbye" as well.

However, it had been Five deca-phoebs as well since Lotor came into the world. It had been Five deca-phoebs since the halls of the palace filled with the wails and giggles of a small child.

Today was Lotor's Fifth birthday.

But what does one give a boy who already has everything his little heart desires? The truth, for a start, Zarkon decided when a small hand tugged on his cape with the question

"Father, can you tell me about mother?"

It was a question Zarkon knew he would get sooner or later, but he hadn't expected it so soon. Nevertheless, he bent down to pick up the boy and easily held him in a single arm.

"Well, first things first. What would you like to know about your mother?"

Lotor thought hard on it for a while. His eyebrows set into a deep frown, and his already round cheeks seemed to puff out even further. He never failed to bring a smile to this father's face.

"How did you and mother meet?"

"I actually met your mother thanks to your uncle Alfor. He brought many Altean scientists along to study a comet that landed here on Daibazaal and your mother was the best and brightest out of all of them."

"So she was smart?"

"Yes. She was very smart and very wise, too. More than I could ever be."

"I don't know. I think you're very smart and very wise too, father."

"Thank you, Lotor. That's very kind of you."

"Did mother know magic too? Like uncle Alfor and Allura?"

"She did. She rarely had to use it, but the times she would humor me and help me with my combat training, she was a formidable opponent and an excellent healer. Which I needed, from time to time."

Lotor giggled as his imagination had taken off with the idea of his father being defeated and then patched up by a woman that looked like him.

"She sounds amazing, father."

"She really was." Zarkon agreed, hugging his son close.

"Mother didn't do combat a lot, did she?"

"No, she didn't. Alteans are generally very peaceful, where we Galra are… _less_ peaceful, sometimes. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know… All of my friends seem to like combat, but I don't. I like strategy, but really I'd rather read all day. Dayak doesn't like that at all. I just thought maybe it was mother, telling me not to fight."

"Oh, Lotor…" Zarkon sighed.

"I'm sorry father, I didn't mean to disappoint you." Lotor mumbled, his eyes cast down at his feet.

"You didn't disappoint me. You impressed me. Son, I love you and I want nothing more than for you to be happy. I have an idea. Please hear me out and tell me what you think."

The prince nodded dutifully.

"I've been thinking of sending you to Altea to study science and magic with king Alfor and princess Allura. I think it will suit you much better than combat training."

"But I don't want to leave you!"

"I didn't finish, Lotor." The emperor chuckled. "We can talk over the holocomms every night, I will come and visit you every phoeb, and if you ever want to come home, all you have to do is say the words. And you can take Kova with you, too."

"Won't you be lonely, father?" Lotor asked, looking up at his father with big eyes, full of worry.

"I will find something to do with my time. I promise."

"Then I think I would like that."

It was another deca-phoeb later when Zarkon visited Altea for his son's sixth birthday, But it was Alfor who seemed to be more excited than anyone else, happily chattering away as they walked the halls of the Castle of Lions to Lotor's rooms.

"You should see his scores, Zarkon. Lotor is surpassing every child in his age group at a staggering rates. I haven't seen a talent like this in a long, long time. Not only that, but he's become more sociable, more daring he even excels in his combat training, which I thought you mentioned he didn't enjoy at all."

"Not on Daibazaal, at least." Zarkon shrugged. "I'm glad you've taken him on, Alfor. I don't think I could ever have made him this happy on my own."

Alfor shook his head. "You don't have to do everything on your own, my friend. No matter what Galra culture dictates. If anything, I'm glad you allowed me to put him in touch with his Altean roots. That and Allura always wanted a younger brother that Mel and I never delivered on."

A loud, barking laugh ripped from the emperor's chest, and not much later, they heard a pair of small feet running up to them.

"Father!"


End file.
